


Worth The Wait

by Elayna



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011), The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stealth Crossovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 09:03:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16720377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elayna/pseuds/Elayna
Summary: An unbonded guide helps a Sentinel in distress.





	Worth The Wait

The party was in full swing at Big Jim's mansion. The richest guy in town know how to throw a lavish spread. The grills were working overtime, providing huge slabs of perfectly cooked meat, a table was loaded with the expected sides, corn on the cob, beans, potato salad, fresh baked bread, and the alcohol was flowing freely, beer, wine, and hard liquor. Country music poured from speakers at a volume that provided an entertaining background but still allowed conversation. Everyone was having a great time. Everyone except Marcus. 

Taking another swig from his beer bottle, Marcus tried to look cheerful. Cottia had been his best friend since high school, the only one who'd known he was gay, the stalwart who'd been by his side after the car crash that had killed his mother, and destroyed his leg and his expectations of a record-setting career in football. He'd graduated on schedule because Cottia had acted as the go-between with his teachers, allowing him to finish assignments from his hospital bed, and her aunt and uncle had let him stay the last few weeks in their spare room. He owed the whole family more than he could ever repay. She'd been excited to be invited on their brief trip home. Though he'd lost track of her, he knew that she was relishing the chance to catch up with old friends. He would not be a party pooper. 

"Hey." As if called by his thoughts, Cottia appeared next to him, elbowing him in the ribs. She was gorgeous, her red hair flowing around her bare shoulders, an enchanting sight in her yellow spaghetti strap dress. She almost made Marcus wish that he was heterosexual or bisexual. "You look miserable." 

"Thanks," he said, grimacing. Even though he'd been trying to fake enjoyment for her, he couldn't lie to her face. 

"Is it a Guide thing? Too many strangers?" 

"No, it's – fuck." He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Probably." 

"Marcus, you need to stop closing yourself off from your abilities." 

"I'm not bonded. I have to." Blaming the lack of a bond was a partial truth. After the accident, trapped in the hospital for several months, he'd carefully erected powerful shields to block out the physical and emotional pain around him. He couldn't have survived if he'd left himself open to the agony felt by injured people, the distress of family and friends. He'd never admitted to her how much that experience had impacted him. She been so helpful; he felt the need to shelter her as much as he could, always trying to wear a brave face. 

"It's not working," she scolded him. "You just try to pretend your abilities don't exist, and then you don't even recognize when you're having problems with them." 

"Someone must be unhappy," he said, glancing around, trying to spot anyone in distress. 

"A Sentinel?" 

"Probably not. I don't think there are any Sentinels in this town. Sometimes I pick up other Guides or really unhappy people." Many people projected unconsciously, without realizing nearby Guides could sense their emotions, but Marcus' ingrained shielding usually blocked them. The last time another person's emotions had battered at his shields this strongly, a fellow student at college had been seriously contemplating suicide. That had been a horribly messed up night, but Marcus was glad he'd been able to help her. 

"Do you need to leave?" She dug the key for the rental out of her bag, and shoved it into his hand. "I can catch a ride with someone." 

He took the key and shoved it in his pocket, not bothering to argue that he'd be fine. She should go back to enjoying the party, not get into a bickering argument with him over how well he would cope. "I want to look around first. Maybe I can find who it is." 

Her lips quirked in a smile. "Saint Marcus, always trying to be helpful." 

Praise always discomforted him. He couldn't ignore this level of pain, not since he'd experienced it himself. "I'm not a saint." 

"Please." She brushed her lips on his cheek. "I remember when you were in the hospital and still asking the nurses about their lives and listening to their problems." 

"It helped distract me from mine." Besides, nurses were overworked and exhausted, but at least they were accustomed to maintaining a semblance of calm, a relief from the hysteria of patients. 

"So you say, but I know you better. Leave if you need to, and if you don't, I expect a report tomorrow on who it was, and how you saved them." 

"Yes, mother," he said, and taking a last look around, slipped into the hallway. The party spilled over several rooms and outside to the back patio. Whoever he was feeling could be anywhere. If only he'd found a Sentinel and bonded, maybe he wouldn't need such tight shields. He'd have better control, and would have an easier time locating the source of distress. Of course, if he'd been able to bond, then maybe the shields he would have formed with his Sentinel would completely stop him from picking up other people's emotions. Unfortunately, the Sentinel Center didn't bother with a lot of research on living with an unbonded state, even though there were more Guides than Sentinels. They wanted everyone to bond, and helping couples was their main concern. 

Or maybe they did help other unbonded Guides more than Marcus. His accident and damaged leg had made him decidedly unappealing to the Sentinel Center, which wanted healthy, young Guides to match with Sentinels who were expected to be active in the police or military. 

Shaking away his negative thoughts, he set his beer bottle on a decorative table in the hallway. That was probably rude, he should find a garbage or recycling bin, but now that he'd realized the source of his unease, he didn't want to waste any time, nor fog his mind with more alcohol. 

There was a chair in the hallway, close to the door. It was a ridiculously fragile chair, the kind that always made Marcus nervous, fearing it would collapse under his weight. Big Jim's house was strange, a blend of rugged Western motifs and pretentious elegance. Still, the hallway was relatively quiet, and that was what Marcus needed, perching on the chair and clearing his mind. Between the few classes that the Center had insisted he take, and the long months of recovery from his accident, Marcus had become well-versed in concentration and meditation. 

With deep breaths and closed eyes, Marcus let his mind relax, blanking active thoughts, being aware of the moment, sensing the people around him. Most were in the rooms to his right, talking, drinking, eating. Some were to the left, and further back, maybe the catering staff in the kitchen. But one… Marcus gasped aloud, his eyes flying open, wondering how the hell he could have missed a Sentinel in such distress. He sucked as a Guide, totally sucked. 

Now that he'd found the source, following it to a closed door was easy. Getting down the steep, wooden stairs was less simple, his leg never appreciated bending, but he persevered until he found himself in a wine cellar. The Sentinel was in the back corner, farthest from the door, and… 

"Crap," Marcus said, crouching as best as he could. The guy was around Marcus's age, and like him, wearing a t-shirt and blue jeans, only his shirt was blue while Marcus was wearing green. He'd been beaten, his face bloody and bruised, one eye swollen. Marcus didn't doubt that he'd been hit on his chest too. Rope was knotted around his ankles, and his arms were trapped behind him. Even in such a shape, he was good-looking, with a face of sharp angles, and a body that was trim and muscled. 

Reaching out, Marcus worked on undoing the knots on his ankles. They weren't too tight, obviously intending to deter a beaten man from escaping, but not to stop someone else from undoing them. "Sentinel?" He consciously opened his shields, reaching out, trying to project warmth and reassurance. 

The one eye that managed to open was a beautiful blue-gray, but filled with pain. "Guide?" 

The rope around his ankles came loose, and Marcus tossed it aside, pulling the guy's torso slightly forward, seeing that his hands were bound behind him. "Yes, I'm a Guide. Can you get up?" 

"You're freeing me?"

The rope came loose from his wrists. "I don't know why you're here, but we need to get you out of here." 

"Take a picture." 

"What?"

"You got a smart phone?" Though the guy had only said a few words, it was enough to tell he had an accent that sounded British. Not posh British, like the actors in the movies that often won Oscars, but more like the ninth Doctor. Northern? 

"Of course," Marcus said automatically, his instinct to help a Sentinel having him pull it out of his back pocket. 

"Take a picture. Email it." The guy brought his arms to his front, and massaged his wrists. The rope had left obvious marks on his skin. He must have been tied up for several hours. 

"I don't think this is the time for Instagram." 

The guy's voice was whip crack sharp. "Guide, obey!"

The demand for obedience made Marcus' cock jump, a reaction he ruthlessly suppressed. "Okay, but this seems like a waste of time." He thumbed the camera function, and took a close-up picture of the guy's face, the one eye glaring at him. "Email?" 

"C-r-a-d-d-o-c-k@o-g-a-dot-g-o-v."

He quickly typed in the address, a government address from the domain, and hit send. It was just the picture, no subject line or explanation. He hoped Craddock understood why he'd sent it, because Marcus certainly didn't. "Okay, it's going. Can you get up?" 

The look in the one eye had softened, the guy's pink tongue licking over parched lips. "Guide? My Guide?" 

The words felt so right, so true. With his shields lowered, he could feel this guy's emotions, the physical pain forced down by determination. He wanted to be this guy's Guide, to be bonded to him for the rest of their lives. To help him recover from his wounds, to see him smiling and happy, and love him forever. That was all any Guide wanted, that complete connection to their Sentinel. Could he really have found his own true Sentinel at the back of a wine cellar? 

No, because Marcus was damaged, which this guy wouldn't have realized. He looked healthy enough, his disability only apparent when exhaustion made him limp. Even the Sentinel Center had given up on him when the doctors had deemed his leg would never fully recover from the car accident, never inviting him to Sentinel-Guide mixers. "What is your name?" 

"Esca." 

"Esca, I'm Marcus. I'm a Guide. Let me help you out of here." 

"No." Esca shook his head emphatically. "They won't let me leave. You need to get out of here. Be safe, my Guide." 

"I'm not leaving you here."

"And I'm not risking your life." 

"You think they'd kill me?" 

"They've made a good try on me. I'm sorry, Marcus. They'll be back to finish up, you'll lose me. Please get out of here. Please." 

The intensity of Esca's sincerity was unsettling and horrifying. He'd been badly beaten and he expected to be killed. Murdered. "Who did this to you? Someone who works for Big Jim?" 

"On his orders." The gurgle of laughter that escaped his lips was bitter. "Bless the catering staff for arriving early or I'd already be dead." 

"Fuck." Marcus wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. Certainly he'd always heard that no one crossed Big Jim, but cold-blooded murder? Could he be that ruthless? Maybe Esca misunderstood, maybe Big Jim had planned on having him beaten, but not killed. But a beating this savage could have resulted in an accidental death, which Big Jim must have been ready to accept when he'd let his guys work over Esca this badly. There was no guarantee that he would let Marcus and Esca just walk out. "Hang on." 

On his cellphone, he texted Cottia: 'Need a distraction, big one. Get everyone's attention.' 

He waited, knowing that she may be talking to someone and not looking at her phone, but hoping he didn't have to call her to get her attention. They had to get out of the house and to the car, without any of Big Jim's boys stopping them. Within seconds though, she texted back question marks. 

'Code X.' 

The high school code came back immediately, signaling this was a crisis of epic proportions, even though all their teenage stresses seemed ridiculously immature now. For good measure, he texted the picture of Esca. 

'Now?' 

No, not now, he thought, aware he had to get Esca up the stairs, which would be slow going. His leg couldn't do stairs fast, and he wasn't sure if Esca could even walk. 'My signal,' he texted back. 

'K' was her only response. 

"Okay, you're getting up now," he said, and this time he didn't wait for Esca to respond, wrapping his arms around Esca's back, making him stand. Sometimes it was good to be tall and broad-shouldered, and a fanatic at maintaining his upper body strength. His regular workout regimen had been to ensure that he could compensate for the weakness of his leg, but now it would be useful to rescue his Sentinel. Esca was shorter than him, and though muscled and wiry, felt slight and fragile in his arms. 

"Marcus, I told you to leave!" 

Arguing seemed a useless waste of time, especially since he was strong enough to dominate Esca physically. This was no time to let a Sentinel be honorable and self-sacrificing. Marcus positioned them with his left arm around Esca's back, draping Esca's right arm over his shoulder, catching his right hand and holding it. He began walking toward the stairs, tugging Esca. 

"Are you deaf? Leave me!"

Not deaf, just disabled, Marcus thought but didn't respond. Despite his words, Esca didn't fight him, his feet cooperating as Marcus pulled him past the wine racks and to the stairs. Going up was as slow as Marcus feared, though more from Esca's hitching breaths than from his leg. The wet noises made Marcus fear that Esca had organ damage. 

'Now,' he texted Cottia, as they hovered on the small landing by the door. As they waited, he was conscious of how good Esca felt in his arms, his male scent mixed with the unpleasant iron tang of fresh blood. Then he heard screams, and figured Cottia had made her move.

Perhaps too well, as people were running in the hallway, and the shrieking was continuing. 

"Keep going," Esca demanded, and Marcus obeyed, thankful that Esca seemed to be appreciating that he was going to be rescued, no matter what. His leg was better on flat ground, but Esca was still making alarming noises as they walked. 

"We need to go faster," Marcus said, and swung Esca into his arms. 

Esca yelped, and threw his arms around Marcus' shoulders. "You can't carry me!"

Marcus grinned, feeling an odd kind of delight. His Sentinel, no, not his Sentinel, Marcus wasn't suitable to be a Sentinel's Guide, but for this moment, Esca was his Sentinel and he was in Marcus' arms, an experience that Marcus had given up on ever having. "Watch me." 

"My hero," Esca said, and perhaps he meant to sound snarky, but the tone was breathless, admiring. 

Something was very definitely happening in the back of the mansion. A couple of people saw them leave, and gave them strange looks, but no one tried to stop them. The goons who had beaten Esca up must be dealing with whatever crisis Cottia had caused. Marcus blessed her efficiency as he carried Esca out the front door. Esca was shorter and smaller than Marcus, but he was definitely a full-grown adult, and Marcus needed all his strength to hold him. 

Reaching the cars parked in front of the mansion, Marcus lowered Esca to stand, and fumbled in his jeans pocket to pull out the rental key, beeping the door open. He helped Esca sit down on the passenger seat and swung his legs inside, before putting his seat belt on. 

Esca's one eye was staring at him as he swung into the car, buckled his own seat belt, and started the car. 

"You're rescuing me from certain death and took time to put a seat belt on me." 

That accent was definitely British. How did a British guy get beat up in America? Was he a tourist, an immigrant? "Click it or ticket," Marcus responded with the safety slogan, focusing on accelerating away from the ranch. Maybe he'd lived in California for too long. 

This time Esca's laugh was genuine, heartfelt, but also soon stopped by a wrecked noise. Esca rubbed his hand over his chest. "I need medical attention." 

"Don't worry. I know where General is. General's the hospital," he added. 

Esca grunted in acknowledgment, and placed a hand on top of Marcus' hand on the steering wheel. Marcus twisted his hand so that their palms met. The feeling as they touched was electric. Curling their fingers together, Marcus held onto Esca's hand, driving with the other. He was holding hands with his Sentinel. Not that Esca could be his Sentinel, but for now, Marcus could pretend. He held on, squeezed tighter, and reveled in their closeness. 

~~~

Big Jim appeared in the doorway at the surgery waiting room around midnight. Two of his boys followed him into the room. One of them had a black eye, and the other's arm was in a sling. Esca must have fought ferociously if he had been the one to inflict that damage. They were all tall and well-built, possibly as strong as Marcus, and none of them would have a gimpy leg. Marcus was glad that he'd had a few hours to think and taken what precautions he could, even if he still didn't understand what was going on. 

"Marcus. Marcus Aquila, right?" 

"Yes, sir." Marcus stood, respectfully. Big Jim was actually an inch or two shorter than Marcus, but broader across the chest, with silver hair and beard. 

"You were at the party at my house tonight, weren't you?" 

"For a while. I left early. It was a good thing I did." 

Big Jim looked surprised, as if there could never be a reason to leave one of his parties early. "Oh, really? Why is that?" 

"I found a guy on the old route 47. I guess he'd been hit by a car. I brought him in. He's in surgery now." 

"Is he now? How's his prognosis?"

"They haven't said." Would it be better if Big Jim thought he was going to die? Marcus was fine with lying if it protected Esca, but recoiled from actually saying that his Sentinel might die. "People should be more careful in that area, there's not a lot of light." 

"Yes, people should. No one else has come in, right? Only this sweet little girl accidentally dropped a whole bottle of tequila on one of the grills, causing something of a fireball. People were running around, it was all kind of crazy." 

Cottia did go all out when causing a distraction. "I haven't been keeping track, sir. We got moved from emergency to surgery pretty quickly." 

"That's good, son. Good that they're looking after this guy." 

"I think it's a shame people drive so fast in that area. I reported it to the police and to the newspaper. I even sent a picture of the guy. I thought the newspaper might want to do one of those safety articles that they used to do when I was in high school." 

"That's right, you were on the high school football team, weren't you? I saw you play a few times. You were magic on the field. And then you had that accident, didn't you?" Big Jim's eyes dropped to Marcus' legs. "It's just someone thought you'd carried someone out of my house. I wanted to make sure no one was hurt by that fireball." 

Marcus rubbed at his leg, letting hurt show on his face. "Me carrying someone out? I'll never carry a bride over the doorway." Which was totally true, as Marcus had no interest in a bride, but let Big Jim assume his leg was that bad, and never think about how much Marcus had worked out his upper body strength to compensate. "I hope they don't bring up the accident if they want to interview me for the safety article." 

"I'm sure they'll be considerate. They're good guys, over at the Tribune. You emailed the editor?" 

"Yeah, the main address, and a couple of the reporters' addresses. They were listed on the website." 

"Good for you, son. You're very thorough." 

"I try to be. I want to be helpful. It's weird to be back here. I spent a lot of time in this hospital after my accident. It's been good to see all the nurses and orderlies I remember. I've been able to say hi tonight to a whole bunch of people and make sure they'll take care of this guy as well as they did me." 

Marcus worked hard to keep his expression caring and concerned. He dearly wanted to punch Big Jim in the face for hurting his Sentinel, but protecting Esca was more important. Marcus couldn't physically defeat three guys, and everyone knew that Big Jim was best friends with Sheriff Brown. Now Big Jim knew that multiple people had heard Marcus' story and knew how badly Esca had been hurt, but no one blamed Big Jim. He could think that whoever had identified Marcus was wrong, that someone else had rescued Esca. Or he could think that Marcus had been the rescuer, but that Marcus would keep his trap shut. Maybe he'd even believe Marcus' story, and think that the guy in surgery wasn't Esca at all, and that Esca was somewhere else. Whatever assumption he was making, he was hopefully realizing that trying to kill Esca at this point would be too noticeable. Esca was no longer some obscure British guy wandering the countryside, but someone rescued by the high school star quarterback who'd lost his chance to become a superstar. This town was small and full of people who loved to gossip. Everyone would know this story tomorrow, probably before they'd finished their second cup of coffee. 

"Well, let me know how things go with the guy, won't you?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"I guess we'll go to emergency now, see if anyone else came in." 

"I'm sure they'll appreciate that, sir." 

Big Jim left, followed by his entourage, who had stayed silent during the exchange. Marcus collapsed into the seat, shaking with exhaustion and adrenaline. Lying always felt wrong, though he'd done it enough in his life, especially to people who wanted to fuss over him after his surgery. If he had a dollar for every time he'd told someone, "I'm fine," when he wasn't, he'd… well, be able to repay his uncle for all his college tuition. 

He checked his cell phone to see Cottia had texted. 'Done with police. Head to you?' 

'No,' he texted back. 'Go home, get sleep.' 

'Sure?'

'Yes.' He added a thumbs-up emoji for good measure. She'd done enough for him tonight, and sitting in the hospital waiting room was beyond boring. One of them might as well get some sleep, and her aunt and uncle would be starting to wonder why she wasn't back yet. 

Marcus was still staring mindlessly at the wall when another guy appeared in the doorway, what was it with barrel-chested old white dudes tonight? This morning, whatever. This guy was clean-shaven with red hair, and walked straight toward Marcus. He also was followed by two other people, all of them dressed in nice, dark suits, looking more suited to Wall Street than this backwater of a Texas town. Both of the younger guys were dark-haired, one cropped close to his head, the other with curls that would have looked ridiculous if his expression wasn't so stern. "Marcus Flavius Aquila?" 

"Yes."

"I'm Craddock. You want to explain to me what game you're playing before I have you arrested for assaulting one of my employees?" 

"You're Esca's boss?" 

"Yes, I'm Esca's boss. And you're an unbonded Guide with a wrecked-up leg, a dodgy father, and a start on a doctorate in Ancient History. Where is Esca and why did you hurt him?"

Marcus gaped for a moment, stunned. "How did you know who I am?" 

"First rule of sending blackmail pictures, Mr. Aquila. Get a burner phone." 

Of course, Esca must have insisted on the photo as a cry for help, a signal for Craddock to track him down, or evidence if he was murdered. "It wasn't – look, Esca asked me to take the picture and send it to you. I found him like that in the wine cellar at Big Jim's house, and got him out, and brought him here. He's having surgery now." 

"Just a good Samaritan who happened to be wandering by?"

Marcus gave an uncomfortable shrug. "You know I'm an unbonded Guide. I was at the party. He was in pain and projecting." 

"And if I check with the local police, they'll verify that story?" 

Marcus didn't know if Esca liked his boss or not, but he seemed like an asshole, and there had been no reason whatsoever to bring up Marcus' dad. "Of course not, are you stupid? If you sent Esca here, don't you know how small towns works? I lied and said I found him on the highway. If I'd said I'd found him at Big Jim's, someone would have called him and let him know. He was here a few minutes ago, he's already been told I carried someone out of his house, I wanted to make him doubt what he'd been told. He can't be sure that Esca's the one in surgery." 

The three strangers exchanged significant looks. "You think he might try to kill Esca during surgery?" 

"I don't know. I wouldn't have expected him to have anyone beat up that badly. But Esca said he did, and Esca thought he was going to be killed. I was just trying to protect him." 

"It appears that we owe you a debt of gratitude then."

"I'm not looking for your gratitude. I just want Esca to get well." 

Craddock finally stopped looming over Marcus, and settled on a chair. "Ray, can you get us all some coffees?" he asked the curly-haired shadow. "Marcus, can you start from the beginning, go through it all slowly?" 

The guy disappeared, apparently not minding the errand, while the other one sat too, and took out a phone, sitting it on the chair with the recording function started. Marcus ran through the story, trying to be thorough, only leaving out that Cottia's 'accidental' fireball was calculated. As far as anyone knew, she'd been tipsy and careless. His attempt at evasion failed.

"You forgot to mention that you'd asked your friend to cause a distraction." 

Marcus took a sip of the coffee that Ray had brought back. He didn't really like it black, but he needed the caffeine. "What makes you think that?" 

"We read your texts." 

The invasion of his privacy should enrage Marcus, but mostly he was astonished. Esca had given him a governmental email, but could even the government tap cell phones without a search warrant? "You can do that?" 

"We can do that." 

"Who the hell are you guys? Who is Esca?" 

"That doesn't really matter now, does it? We're here. We appreciate your efforts, but we can protect Esca now. You can go." 

"I can't just go. I can't leave Esca." 

"Ray, William, can you leave us?" Craddock asked his shadows, who simply went without a word, the one taking his phone. "Look, son." He leaned closer to Marcus. "That was an incredibly brave thing you did, but you do realize that Esca's an unbonded Sentinel, right? Pain and stress, I know these things can cause reactions among Guides and Sentinels, especially if they're unbonded." 

Marcus' chest felt tight. Was the feeling that he and Esca were meant for each other only the result of heightened emotions? "What do you mean?" 

"I mean, Esca's a young man with a great future in protecting this country. I wouldn't want him to be tied to a Guide out of accident, a Guide who couldn't be a part of his life." 

But he'd rescued Esca. He'd sensed him and carried him out of Big Jim's house. He'd been a part of his life. But Craddock was right, Marcus couldn't be a reliable partner to some super-secret government agent, not when walking up and down stairs took so long. "He's British," he said stupidly. 

"I can't really discuss Esca with you, you understand? His work is highly confidential. You need to go. After all, you more than anyone know the disaster of having an inappropriate partner."

Marcus flinched at the reference to his parents, but steeled himself. He wouldn't abandon Esca thoughtlessly. Reaching out mentally, hesitantly, he tried to use his Guide senses in a way that he normally suppressed. Craddock was a complicated person, emotions and conscious logic all twisted together, but he shared that same sense of purpose that Esca had. He believed that Marcus' leaving was the best option. "Yes," Marcus agreed. He wasn't the right Guide for an active Sentinel. At least, if he couldn't have Esca, he now knew what that feeling of meeting his other half was like. He didn't believe he'd ever feel the same about anyone else as he had felt carrying Esca out of Big Jim's house. "If he – well, I guess you know how to get hold of me if he wants to…" What, say thank you? Have a chat? Marcus didn't need Esca's gratitude. "What about Cottia?" He checked the time on his phone. "I'm supposed to be flying back today anyway, but she's staying a couple more days. If Big Jim realizes she helped – " 

"Don't worry, more of my people will be arriving soon. We'll be keeping an eye on Big Jim and his boys. They won't be able to hurt anyone else." 

Marcus nodded, still feeling Craddock's emotions. His reassurance felt valid. Marcus walked out of the surgery waiting room, conscious that tiredness was making him limp. He was going home. 

~~~ 

Esca hurt. He hurt so badly, like he'd never hurt before. He couldn't even figure out where he hurt, the pain seemed to be all over his body. This wasn't just the beating he'd taken, this was more, much more. 

"Esca?" 

Craddock was sitting by his bed, looking concerned. Why was Craddock with him? Craddock wasn't the right person to be by his side. 

"Yeah," Esca managed to say, to confirm he was awake. 

"You're out of surgery. They had to stop some internal bleeding and your ribs are bruised, but you'll get better now." 

His Guide, he needed his Guide. "Where's Marcus?"

For the boss of a super-secret government organization, Craddock could be startlingly easy to read sometimes. He was about to lie. Esca didn't even need to use his Sentinel abilities to listen for his heart rate, he could see it in his face. "You prick, what did you do?"

"I realize you may feel you owe Marcus some gratitude from rescuing you, but – "

"He's my Guide." 

"Stressful situations can bring out extreme reactions, but I'm sure – " 

Craddock had chased Marcus away. Esca didn't know how, but he knew Craddock. If he thought Marcus wasn't the right person to be Esca's Guide, he'd hit Marcus on some weak spot. The man was excellent at manipulation, believing it was acceptable in a righteous cause. And usually excellent at utilizing his Sentinels and Guides, except he was a norm, he'd never truly understood the people he commanded. Esca wanted to scream, to hit Craddock, to yell at him to get Marcus back, but he didn't have the strength. Then he could feel the change in his body, his blood pressure sky rocketing, his pulse and heart rates increasing, and could hear the machines making agitated noises as his vitals jumped too high. 

His last thought before he passed out was a vengeful satisfaction that his death would teach Craddock not to interfere in things he didn't understand. 

~~~ 

Marcus drove straight to the motel, threw his clothes in his suitcase, texted Cottia a goodbye, and got the hell out of Dodge. He ignored her increasingly demanding texts, blessing that he hadn't mentioned he thought Esca was his Sentinel. She'd be at the hospital, badgering Esca to wake up and follow him. 

Going on standby, he managed to get an earlier flight home, but lost his window seat. The flight was horrible, cramped in a middle seat between two other people, the air in the cabin nasty from being recycled, and he wished he'd thought to grab food because two packets of peanuts didn't cut it. Marcus' body felt tight, like a force was pressing down on him, leaving him cranky, miserable, and hungry. He hoped he wasn't getting a cold. 

He said three sentences to his uncle when he'd reached home, ("It was fine. It was good to see people. I'm exhausted.") before promptly crashing into bed. His body felt like someone had been beating on him with a sledgehammer. He was definitely getting sick. 

Noises disturbed Marcus' sleep, but his brain felt too fuzzy to react immediately. 

His bedroom door crashed open, two figures in black suits striding in, followed by his uncle. "I told you he was sleeping. Can't this wait?"

The closer one, a petite woman with smooth red hair, held out a badge that looked official, with Federal Bureau of Investigation embossed on it. She waved a paper at him. "Guide Aquila, you are hereby drafted into the service of Sentinel Central. Please get out of bed immediately and get dressed." 

"What the hell?" 

She dropped the paper on the bed by him, and tucked away her badge. "Your Sentinel needs you, Guide." 

"Look, Esca may think he needs me, but – " Marcus sat up, swinging his legs around, and throwing the blankets back. He was only wearing his boxer shorts, the scar tissue down the length of one leg immediately obvious. "I wouldn't be a good Guide for him. I don't even know if we actually started bonding before I left, but you should be able to free him. If we did." 

"Marcus, you started bonding with a Sentinel?" His uncle stared at him, his expression dumbfounded. Though he didn't show it, his uncle was more hurt than surprised, that his nephew hadn't shared the news with him. Marcus really needed to rebuild his shields. Knowing that he'd hurt his uncle sucked. 

The other agent cut in before Marcus could answer his uncle. The guy's voice was surprisingly lackadaisical, like insouciant was his default setting. "Esca hasn't actually been able to offer an opinion one way or the other. It's hard to talk when your body is shutting down." 

"What?" 

"Your Sentinel is dying, Guide. He's going into bond shock, because you left him." 

Marcus stood, grabbing at the clothes he'd taken off and dropped on top of the hamper. Screw Craddock, and whether he'd mess up Esca's life. He should have trusted the feeling of completeness that Esca brought him. He pulled his clothes back on, not caring that the others watched him. "Can you get me a flight?"

"We've got a plane, Guide. It's ready to go as soon as we reach the airport. We'll be escorting you." 

He grabbed his suitcase, thankful he hadn't unpacked. "Uncle, I'll be back." 

His uncle gave him a quick squeeze. "I want the whole story when you return. Bring your Sentinel." 

~~~

A private plane was definitely nicer than commercial, though Marcus had a hard time appreciating the luxurious seats, not now that he finally recognized why he felt so bad. He and Esca had started bonding, the heavy pressure he felt on his body was bond shock. Esca was already severely wounded; he'd be feeling it worst. 

He emailed Cottia the whole truth, knowing that she would scold him both for not telling her the truth and for not being in touch with his Guide abilities. She would not deny herself the satisfaction of saying, "I told you so," not when it was so clearly deserved. If he was going to have a Sentinel of his own, he'd have to follow her advice and get in better touch with his Guide side. 

At least there was food in the tiny galley. Marcus made himself at home, eating to make up for several missed meals. All those months in the hospital had taught him that his body needed fuel and to eat when he felt up to it. 

The two agents stayed with him the whole flight. The woman finally gave her name as Dana, while the guy just suggested that Marcus call him "hey, you," which earned him an eye roll from his partner. 

Marcus didn't need to be told where to go, heading straight for ICU when they reached General. Craddock was sitting in a chair by Esca's bed. 

"Out," Marcus ordered him. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Look, you brought me back to save him from bond shock. I know what to do and you'll be in the way." 

"Very well." Craddock's tone was sour, but he obeyed, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. 

Alone, Marcus stood by Esca's bedside. Dressed in one of skimpy hospital gowns, hooked up to multiple machines, bruises all over his face, his Sentinel looked on the verge of death. From his vitals on the monitor, he was barely hanging on. But he was alive, and as long as Marcus had anything to say, he would stay that way. 

What exactly should he do now? Marcus had been taught about bonding, but only with the assumption that the Sentinel was awake and participating. Despite his confidence to Craddock, Marcus wasn't sure how to bond to an unconscious person. 

"Activate the senses," he told Esca. "You can't see, not with your eyes closed, but I've read that people still hear in a coma. I'll talk to you. Smell. Your nose still works, right?" Conscious of the tubing attached to Esca's body, he carefully lifted him, and tucked himself underneath him, his torso and hips on the bed, his feet resting on the floor. He cradled Esca to his body, cupping Esca's head with one palm, tucking his nose into Marcus' neck. "The class said that Sentinels like to smell their Guides. I hope so, because it's been a long, hard day, and I probably smell kinda ripe. Taste isn't going to work, and you're supposed to be touching me, but maybe I can touch you? Would that help?" 

Esca's skin was soft under Marcus' fingers as he stroked his arms. "You called me your Guide. I hope you're right. I can't imagine anything better. We don't even know each other, but the classes said that's how it works, that there's something chemical between the right Sentinel and his Guide."

He cleared his throat. "So I'll tell you about me, okay? My name is Marcus Flavius Aquila. My Dad was Italian-American, and my mom was Irish-American. Dad was a Guide. We traveled a lot when I was a kid, because he worked for Sentinel Central. I don't really know most of what he did, a lot of it was confidential. Mom and Dad, well, things weren't always good between them, and they got really bad when Dad finally met his Sentinel. They got divorced. My mom moved back here with me just before I started high school. This was her hometown.

"You know what? Let's not talk about my past. You don't need to know all that stuff now. Let's talk about good things. I have the greatest uncle, he's a really cool guy. I hope you love him. He has a ton of money, but I'm going to pay him back for my college tuition." 

Marcus rambled on, trying to pick happy memories to discuss, his friendship with Cottia, his love for football, cool concerts he'd attended, his interest in the history of the Roman empire. Occasionally, he would brush a kiss on the top of Esca's head and give him a small squeeze. Esca didn't respond, but the indicators on the monitor steadily improved. 

There was a knock on the door and a black head poked in, eyes averted. "You decent?"

"Darius? Come in." 

"Marcus. I heard you were in here, bonding to your Sentinel." The nurse came forward, and gave Marcus a combination high-five, handshake. Darius had played football too, so they'd bonded over their love of the sport and high school days. 

"Hey, it's good to see you. It's been years." 

"Yeah, people are glad to see you." Darius gave an assessing look. "You're looking pretty good. How's the leg?" 

Marcus shrugged. "Not great. It'll never be great." 

"That's a shame." Darius studied the monitor over Esca's head. "This guy is getting better." 

Marcus looked over, pleased by how much Esca had already stabilized. "He is better, isn't he?" 

"Whatever you're doing, keep it up. Only - " Darius stopped, looking sheepish. 

"Only what?" 

"I thought Sentinels and Guides bonded, you know." He sighed at Marcus' blank look. "By sexual intercourse." 

"He's unconscious!" 

Darius rolled his eyes at him. "Yes, I see that. So how are you bonding?" 

"I'm activating the senses of his that I can, talking to him, letting him smell me and feel my touch." 

"Huh. Interesting."

"I guess you don't get a lot of Sentinels or Guides here." 

Darius laughed. "No, not here. Probably not since you. The two of you are going to be talked about forever. Well, you're already talked about for that last season, now your legend will get even bigger."

Legend? That was a weird, disconcerting thought. "I just found him on the old highway and brought him to the hospital." 

"And bonded with him and saved his life and found your very own Sentinel after waiting for years. I can already hear the ladies swooning at the beauty shop." 

"Do you really think people will see it like that? Not, you know… be upset that I'm gay." 

"This town's getting better. Everything changes, even here. But you get a free pass anyway, football star and Guide." He gave Marcus a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry so much. This is supposed to be the best day of your life, right? Anyway, we're supposed to reduce his visits while you're bonding, so it'll be a while before I check back. Call me if he needs me, okay?"

"Okay."

~~~

He was alive. That was surprising. He'd very clearly felt his body shutting down, going into bond shock. 

Somehow, he was still alive, and being cradled to a firm, warm, large, chest. Big hands were stroking up and down his hands, an American voice rambling in his ear. 

"Cottia and I loved the X-Men movies. Well, most of them. Wolverine was our favorite X-Men. We both think Hugh Jackman is really hot." 

His Guide. Marcus had returned, and was holding Esca, cradling him, connecting to Esca's senses, hearing and touch. And scent, his face buried in Marcus' neck, keeping him close to Marcus' unique smell. 

"Guide. My Guide." His voice sounded strange to his ears, made hoarse by the dryness of his mouth.

"Esca?' Marcus cupped his chin, tilted his head back so that their eyes met. "You're awake. I hoped it would be soon. Your vitals are all back to normal." 

Esca tried to say more, dry tongue running over chapped lips.

"You need to drink, don't you?" Marcus grabbed a small cup on the table by the bed, holding the straw up to Esca's lips. "I remember what that was like, feeling dehydrated." 

Feeling grateful at Marcus' knowledge and awareness, Esca sipped the cold water, letting it moisten his mouth. "You came back." 

Marcus looked away momentarily, his face embarrassed. "Craddock sent the FBI to get me. I wouldn't have left if I'd realized we were bonding, I hope you know that."

"Fucking Craddock. He shouldn't have made you leave. What did he say?" 

"It doesn't matter. I'm back."

"It matters. You're my Guide. I need to know what can make you abandon me."

Marcus' eyes were beautiful, deep green, and so expressive. Here was another person where Esca would barely to need to listen to his heart rate to determine his honesty, only stare into his eyes. "I won't again," Marcus said, the words ringing like a vow. 

Esca sipped more water. "I will kick Hugh Jackman's ass if he ever gets close to you." 

The laugh surprised from Marcus was gentle, but pleased. "You don't have to worry. I'm yours." 

~~~

The next time Esca woke, he was immediately conscious that Marcus' arms were no longer around him. For a moment, he panicked, fearing that the Guide had left him again. Not feeling that utter shock of being alone, he calmed himself and searched with his senses. He breathed a sigh of relief, hearing Marcus' voice in the hallway.

"He fits perfectly in my arms."

A woman responded, her voice light. "I'm so glad for you. So you two have bonded?"

Curious, neither she nor Marcus had the Texas accent shared by Big Jim and the others in this town. His subconscious had absorbed much of what Marcus has told him, though the details were fuzzy, like a watercolor painting that had bled too much. Marcus and his parents had traveled a lot until his parents' divorce, that explained his lack of a Texas accent. This woman must be Cottia, the high school friend. They'd both come back for her aunt and uncle's wedding anniversary. Had she lived elsewhere and lost her parents too?

Esca felt the sting of loss, remembering his parents and older brothers. He and Marcus were both orphans. No, Marcus hadn't said his dad was dead. Esca wished he'd been aware enough to hear and understand everything Marcus had said. But mostly he wanted Marcus' arms around him again. "Marcus?" he called.

"Esca?" Marcus came into the room, followed by a beautiful, red-haired woman. "Are you thirsty?"

Even while asking, Marcus was already lifting up Esca and slipping behind him to hold him, picking up the water glass and bringing the straw to his lips. Esca drank as Marcus asked, "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat. You must be Cottia," he directed to the woman.

"I'm so glad you and Marcus have found each other."

From the steadiness of her heartbeat, she was being honest. If she had ever yearned to be with Marcus, and Esca didn't know how she couldn't have, she must have accepted that he was gay and a Guide years ago. Good, because she was incredibly important to Marcus, and Esca didn't want to cause any problems. "You helped get me out, didn't you? Thank you."

She held a finger to her lips. "Shhh. I was a little tipsy and I'm so embarrassed at causing such a fuss." Dimples peeked out as she smiled.

"I appreciate your drunken clumsiness," Esca said gravely, as the door opened and a nurse came in.

~~~

Marcus was pleased at how well Esca was recovering, sleeping a lot, waking occasionally for food and conversation. People said that Sentinels and Guides kept each other healthy, though that had never been scientifically proved. If Marcus' strength was helping the bruises fade from Esca, he could only be grateful. Within what seemed like a blissfully short period of time, Esca was getting well enough to be restless. 

"I can tell you anything, right?" Esca asked, his tone oddly nervous. 

"Of course. We're going to be together for the rest of our lives." 

"I still hurt, and yet I look at you – " Esca twisted his head to look up at Marcus. "You're so hot. I feel half-hard. I want you to fuck me. I want to fuck you." 

Marcus shook his head, though he certainly appreciated the sentiment. He was half-hard too, and felt like the top of his head would blow off if Esca kept talking about sex. "You're way too hurt still." 

"I just – " Esca's hand moved restlessly on top of the blankets, over his groin. "I hurt." 

"I know," Marcus said soothingly. "I know what it's like. I was in the hospital for months." Burrowing his free hand under the blankets, and the flimsy hospital gown, he found Esca's cock, half-hard as he had said. "I was 17. My brain was horny but my body wouldn't cooperate." Esca's cock felt a really nice size in his grip. His mouth watered as the thought of how much he could fit. He stroked firmly, knowing Esca couldn't get off, not in the state he was in, but hoping he could enjoy the sensation. 

"I want to see you. Can I see you?" 

"See me?" 

Esca's voice was dark and low. "See you jerk off. I want to see what you look like when you come."

Marcus glanced at the closed door, thinking about how long it had been since a nurse had checked on Esca. This was a risk, but at the worst, he'd be incredibly embarrassed. At the best, Esca would be distracted from his pain. "Okay." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Keeping one arm around Esca's shoulders, Marcus removed his hand from Esca's cock, instead unzipping his jeans, pushing down his boxers, and pulling out his cock. Staring into Esca's eyes, it didn't take long to coax himself to full hardness. "Watch me." 

Esca shook himself, as if remembering what he'd asked for, and looked down at Marcus' hand on his cock. "You're so big." 

"You make me hard," Marcus whispered in Esca's ear, keeping up a steady rhythm. He knew what he liked, the slow, stroking motion with a little twist at the end, spreading the pre-come over his cock. "That's for you." 

"Fuck." Esca rested one hand on Marcus' wrist, not interfering in his motion, but letting his hand be carried along as Marcus stroked himself, speeding his pace until his orgasm hit, his chest heaving, stifling a groan as his come pulsed over his fingers. Esca yanked at Marcus' hand, bringing it to his mouth. "I want this." His warm, wet tongue licked diligently over Marcus' fingers, cleaning every trace of his come off his skin. Marcus' fingers were sucked into Esca's hot mouth, one by one, making Marcus wish he could come again. "You taste so good. I've never been so grateful for a Sentinel's taste buds." 

"That tastes good?" Marcus asked, finding it hard to believe. Come had always seemed nasty to him. 

"The best," Esca swore. "I'm going to suck you dry every day when I'm well." Esca barely finished the sentence, his words growing fainter, and Marcus realized he'd fallen asleep. He checked the monitor, and everything looked good. Only sleep then, which Esca needed. Marcus tucked his cock back in and rearranged his clothes. Resting his head on top of Esca's, he prepared to wait until his Sentinel woke up again. 

~~~

Being patient was a strength of Esca's during a mission. He could wait forever if necessary, doing nothing but extending his hearing or sight, following a target or searching for one. In the past, being stuck in a hospital bed, with nothing to do but allow his body to heal, had been a completely different animal, making him fret and fuss at the nurses. He didn't like non-productive inactivity. 

Until Marcus. Marcus with his big, strong body and seemingly endless willingness to simply cradle Esca in his arms and hold the water glass for him to drink. Marcus, who knew all the nurses and orderlies, all of whom would bend backwards to get him anything he wanted. Marcus, who was willing to share anything about his life, or read quietly on his phone whenever Esca needed to nap.

After all these years, Esca finally had his Guide, and he was amazing.

Craddock poked his head in, checking that it was okay to enter. Esca didn't really want to be interrupted; he'd be content to curl peacefully in Marcus' arms for hours more without talking to anyone else, but he knew reality had to intrude. Besides, he did want to test how his energy was improving and talking to Craddock could be a battle sometimes. He waved one hand, welcoming him in.

"Esca, Marcus." Craddock stopped by the bedside. "Your color is looking much better."

"I'm feeling much better, now that I have my Guide."

"Marcus, could we talk alone?"

Marcus was easing out from underneath Esca before Esca could decide if he was ready for them to be separated. "I need to stretch my legs," he said, cupping the back of Esca's head and giving him a firm kiss. Close-mouthed, but decisive, like Marcus had a right to kiss Esca any time, in any way he wanted, and in front of anybody. Esca licked his lips as he watched Marcus leave the room.

"So you're bonded," Craddock said, half-statement, half-question, as he pulled the visitor chair closer and sat down.

Not really, no. They wouldn't be until Esca was fully well enough to satiate all his senses on Marcus. "Yes."

"I hear he's smart, working on a doctorate in history. And obviously a quick thicker, getting you out of there. People still talk about his strength as an athlete. They act like God blessed them by having his accident happen after football season ended."

"You're thinking of recruiting him," Esca said, astonished. He wasn't surprised Craddock had tried to get rid of him earlier; Craddock didn't like interferences with his people. He hadn't expected the older man to see Marcus as a potential employee.

"Of course. He's your Guide. He's not going to be much help if he doesn't know what's happening."

"He has a bum leg."

"He seems to walk okay."

"Flat surfaces, and when he's not tired. I don't know if he can run at all."

Craddock looked consideringly at Esca for a long moment. "There are resources that I've been working on tapping into more. You know the kind of thing I mean. I believe that his leg could be fixed, possibly good as new."

"You're serious."

"You seem surprised for someone who has complained that I'm never not," Craddock said drily.

"If you could fix his leg, and if Marcus wanted to switch careers, then yes."

"And if doesn't want to switch careers? If he wants to be a history professor?"

"Then I guess I'm looking for a new line of work, without having any work history or references for my resume."

Craddock gave a little nod, acknowledging that Esca couldn't advertise his background. "And you'd be okay with that? You're a smart, talented guy, I'm sure you'd find something, but it would be very different than what you're doing now."

Marcus had been talking to a woman by the nurses' station, but now he was walking further away. His sneakers didn't make much noise, but enough that Esca could track the rubber soles against the tile. "He's my Guide. I'm going to be with him, doing what makes him happy."

"Then I'll wait to hear from you. You do understand I could only expend these kinds of resources on one of my people, not the boyfriend of a soon-to-be-former employee?"

Esca bit his lip, but didn't argue. He knew when Craddock would be immovable. For a man who believed in the big picture of ensuring justice and protecting innocents, philanthropy on a personal level was not one of his strong qualities. With a brief nod, he switched subjects by asking, "What about Big Jim?"

"We had to go to a federal court to get a judge who would issue a search warrant. The locals weren't interested."

"But you got it?"

"We did, and looks like we should have enough evidence for gun running and sex trafficking charges. Jim's been a bad boy."

"And if you find other crimes?"

"He'll be in prison for a long time. If he's been doing things that the public doesn't need to know about, we can deal with that later."

"Good." Esca checked on Marcus, who was making small talk with a cashier. He must be in the cafeteria.

"There was just one complication. We didn't actually get Big Jim himself."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Craddock grimaced. "We think someone in the local judge's office tipped him off, hell, the judge for all we know. I'll keep people here, at the hospital."

"And Marcus' friend, Cottia?"

"I've got a team at her aunt and uncle's house. We'll get him if he tries something stupid."

"He's not an idiot. He's probably heading to another country."

"We'll find him, wherever he goes."

They'd better, but that wasn't Esca's problem. He'd done his bit, even if being almost killed by Big Jim hadn't been part of the plan. It had still been useful. "Marcus is heading back."

"Where did he go?"

"The cafeteria in the basement, why?"

"You are getting stronger."

"I've always been able to track that far."

"Not and keep up a conversation. You always pause and stare." Craddock tilted his head to one side and stared off in the distance, imitating how Esca used to look when focusing.

"My Guide makes me stronger," Esca said pointedly, still annoyed that Craddock had tried to chase Marcus away.

"Remember my offer. Talk it over with Marcus and get back to me."

"When I'm well," Esca promised. 

~~~

The house was dark when they got home, but the automatic lights clicked on as they walked up to the front door. Marcus unlocked the door, stepping back to allow Esca to enter first. He didn't doubt that Esca would like his home. Despite it being a beautiful, elegant mansion, this place had always seemed comfortable and welcoming to him. Marcus did wonder what Esca would think about his room, Marcus' personal possessions and usual clutter. 

"It was nice of your uncle to go to his friend's."

Marcus felt a redness in his cheeks. Calling and asking his uncle to give them some space the first few days had been uncomfortable, but seemed wise. "I don't think it was a matter of niceness." 

"He didn't want to be around his nephew having sex for several days?" 

"He would have been unfailingly polite about it."

"I don't feel polite," Esca said, and how did his voice slide into that tone so easily, that deep, low tone that promised he was ready to take Marcus apart and put him back together? "I feel very uncivilized, almost primal you might say." 

Marcus dropped his suitcase, Esca discarded his knapsack, and then they were in each other's arms, sharing long, wet kisses. 

"I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for you." 

"Me too." 

Marcus took Esca's hand, pulling him toward the staircase. "Would it be okay if the house tour waited until tomorrow?" 

"Make it the day after tomorrow, and it's a deal." 

The stairs were wider and easier to climb than the steep stairs in Big Jim's wine cellar, but Marcus still cursed his slowness. He should have taken up his uncle's offer to take the bedroom downstairs, but he'd been stubborn when he moved in, and the time had never seemed right to switch. His leg hated bending enough for stairs, but he'd figured the exercise was good for it. "I'm sorry," he said, as Esca kept pace with him. 

"Marcus." Esca rubbed one palm over Marcus' chest. "How can you think I care? You're my Guide." 

"I'll never be the kind of Guide who can be your partner in whatever it is you do." 

"You saved my life. Do you know how amazing that was, carrying me away from someone who would have killed me?"

Esca's appreciation of him was overwhelming, reminding him of when he'd been a teenage football star, admired by the whole school, before he'd become someone to pity. He blinked quickly, determined to chase away tears. "You like to be carried?" he asked. As they reached the landing, he grabbed Esca by his waist, and tossed him over his shoulder in a firemen's carry. 

"Marcus!" Esca gasped, before his voice steadied. "Actually, I can see some benefit in this position." From his upside-down position, he squeezed Marcus' butt with both hands. 

The sudden groping made Marcus stagger in surprise, but he didn't drop Esca, and instead arranged his hold more firmly. "I'm definitely glad uncle is gone," he muttered, heading to his bedroom. He tried to drop Esca on his bed, but Esca tucked his legs around Marcus' waist and pulled him down with him. 

Marcus found himself laughing, a laugh that turned into a moan when Esca flexed his hips up, rubbing their groins together. "What do you want to do?" Marcus asked.

"Other than everything?" 

"Yes, first." 

"Actually, do you mind simple? I still need to finish activating all my senses on you." Esca's hands dropped toward his stomach, where his scar was still healing. "And I'm not sure that I'm up to more anyway." 

"Whatever you want." Marcus pushed against the bed, standing up. "Get naked?" he asked, even as his hands dropped to the bottom of his t-shirt. 

"Definitely." Esca didn't hesitate, pulling off his shirt at the same time. 

Marcus dropped his hands to his belt buckle. He didn't let himself pause, forcing himself to trust that Esca wouldn't recoil from the sight of his leg. They discarded the rest of their clothes together, Marcus letting his stay where they fell, Esca tossing his off the bed. Naked Esca looked as good as he had felt in Marcus' arms, all lean, trim muscle. He had a tattoo that covered one shoulder and the top part of his right arm, blue curving lines. One day, Marcus was going to follow every curve of that tattoo with his lips. 

Esca pushed the covers back and settled on one side on the bed, patting the space next to him. "Here." 

Obeying Esca felt good. Marcus laid next to him, propping his head on one bent arm. "You need to activate your senses?" 

"I want to see, taste, touch all of you, every inch of your skin, smell your odor, even when you're sweating, especially when you're sweating, and listen to you tell me how good it feels. Don't be shy, Marcus. Talk to me." 

"I will," Marcus promised, laying passive as Esca stroked his fingertips all over his skin, dropping kisses on random spots, stopping to lick and taste. Even the scars on his leg seemed to fascinate Esca, as he rubbed his nose and breathed hot kisses on them. Marcus moaned almost continuously with pleasure. Esca's touch felt so good, his fingers like a brand against his sensitive skin, his tongue warm and wet. 

Esca paused in his exploration to give Marcus another deep kiss. "You are so handsome." 

People had told Marcus before that he was good-looking, and the flattery always made him uncomfortable. He wasn't just his looks, so it felt like people weren't really seeing him, only his physical shell. But Esca's appreciation was everything, making Marcus grateful that Esca found him appealing. "As are you." 

"Not like you." He caressed Marcus' abdomen, fingers tracing the hard muscles. "You work out."

"You do too," Marcus responded, briefly touching Esca's skin. 

"Over. I need to see all of you." 

Obligingly, Marcus rolled onto his stomach, exposing his back to the same admiring treatment. He made an exclamation of sound, glancing over his shoulder when Esca tongued the dark pucker between his buttocks. "Okay, that's just – " 

"What?" 

Marcus moaned loudly as Esca licked him again. "Not nasty," he gasped. 

"No one's done that for you?" 

"No." 

"Good." Esca stretched out on his side, facing Marcus again. "I like that there are ways that only I'll ever know you." His hand encircled Marcus' cock, giving it a stroke. "I want to see you come. I want to watch your face."

"You've seen me come. You're the only one who's ever seen me jerk off. I need to see you too." Taking Esca's cock, he matched him stroke for stroke, the two of them staring into each other's eyes as they slowly climbed higher and higher together, until the pleasure became too much, and they had to share open-mouthed kisses until they both came, gasping and moaning into each other's mouths. 

"I will never tire of watching you," Esca said fiercely, like a vow. 

"Nor I, you," Marcus promised back. 

By unspoken agreement, they rested, still on their sides, occasionally touching and stroking, enjoying the freedom to put their hands on each other, to explore skin and nipples and small tufts of hair. Esca rubbed his thumb on Marcus' belly button. Every touch made Marcus shiver. "How did I not find you before? I attended so many of those stupid mixers, where were you hiding?" 

"I went to one when I first turned 17, but then I had the accident."

"I know your recovery took a long time but all during college? Why didn't you come then?"

"I didn't get invited." Why hadn't he insisted on being invited? He and Esca could have just met at a party, their eyes locking across the room. They could have lived together for years already, studying and loving each other and undoubtedly squabbling on occasion.

"Fucking Central. They didn't think you were good enough, did they?"

Marcus didn't think he was good enough, that's why he never contacted Central and demanded an invite. "I guess not. And there are more Guides than Sentinels. Everyone knows not all Guides will bond."

Esca looked at him, his eyes clear and direct, feeling like he was seeing all the way to Marcus' soul. "Never believe that again, Marcus. Never believe you're not worthy."

His throat felt tight as Marcus promised, "I won't."

"You will. I'm learning you, Marcus Flavius Aquila. But that's okay. I'll be here to remind you."

Marcus rolled to his back as Esca leaned over him, kissing him deep and hard, a promise of the future together.

~~~

Waking sometime in the early morning, Marcus carefully untangled his body from Esca's, slipping out of the bed. His belly was growling at him. He snagged a pair of sweats and pulled them on, wondering if Esca would wake and be hungry if he brought him breakfast in bed. It was worth trying. Worst-case scenario, Esca didn't wake and the food got cold. Best case scenario… was definitely worth contemplating. 

The house was still dark as he slowly maneuvered down the staircase and into the foyer before flicking on the lights. 

"Well, and here you are. We were about to go looking for you." 

"Es - !" Marcus abruptly stopped yelling as Big Jim pointed a gun in his face. Guns had been a factor in Marcus' life. His dad had taught him to shoot and taken him hunting sometimes before he'd deserted Marcus and his mom. Having one inches from his face was a totally different reality than target practice.

"Good boy. I knew you weren't completely stupid." To his two goons, Big Jim said, "Spread out and find the Sentinel. He's probably sleeping in a bedroom. Start downstairs. This guy has a crippled leg." 

"How did you find us? Why did you find us?" Marcus kept his voice level, wondering about the extent of Esca's hearing. Could he hear a conversation on a different floor? 

"How did I find you? You've been away too long. You should know everyone knows everything. People were happy to talk about you and how great it was that you'd found your Sentinel and the two of you could go back to California together. Only then the FBI came and confiscated all my computers and records and I had to get out of town. Because of you, boy. You and that Sentinel." 

"I only got him out of your house. You hurt him." 

Big Jim waved his gun, gesturing for Marcus to walk into the living room, and he obeyed the instruction, slowly, exaggerating his limp. "And now I'm going to kill him and you. Oh, it won't make up for what I've lost, they've got enough evidence to convict me now, but I need that satisfaction. You two won't be around to testify against me." 

Marcus stopped in the middle of the living room, turning to face Big Jim. "Adding murder to whatever charges they've got against you is stupid." 

"You came into my house, you accepted my hospitality, you intruded where you shouldn't have, you gave evidence against me, and now you want to call me stupid? You don't know when to quit, do you boy?" 

"I didn't give evidence against you." 

"My attorney's heard your evidence, that little recording on a phone about how I had a federal agent beaten and was holding him prisoner. That I'd undoubtedly been interrupted in the midst of attempted murder and would actually commit murder as soon as I had the chance." 

"Oh." Right, the recording he'd made in the hospital. He should have realized that Craddock would use that as evidence to get a search warrant. 

"Yes, oh." 

Marcus was suddenly conscious that he'd been in the middle of this moment. Not precisely the same moment, where a crazy man was waving a gun in his face in the middle of his uncle's luxurious mansion, but being 17 years old, the star quarterback standing on a field, seemingly the entire town in the audience, watching him, waiting to see what he would do next. Would he lead the team to victory? Or to a crushing failure? It was make or break time. Do or die, now or never. If Marcus didn't do something, perhaps Esca would save him, or perhaps they'd both be killed, before they'd even had a chance for so much more. Going to the movies together, watching a game on Sunday afternoon, having more great sex, fighting for the first time, everything. "You hurt my Sentinel." 

"Do you think I give a shit? You – " 

Big Jim's words turned into an astonished yell as Marcus took advantage of the fact that he was waving the gun around as he spoke, and simply lunged for him in a football tackle, knocking him to the ground, letting all of his weight land on him. The sound of Big Jim's head hitting the polished tile floor made a satisfying thunk, but he wasn't knocked out. He tried to struggle to rise, but Marcus planted his left hand on Big Jim's chest, raising himself enough that he could swing at his face, his fist connecting solidly with Big Jim's cheek. Big Jim gave another yell, and swung back, trying to pistol whip Marcus, but Marcus released the fear and anger he felt, hitting him again and again. 

"I think you can stop now," said Esca's voice, oddly amused. 

Shocked at the interruption, Marcus stared at Esca, standing in the opening to the foyer. Like Marcus, Esca was wearing only his jeans, carrying a gun in each hand. "You're okay?" 

"I'm fine. He's not doing so well though," he said, jerking his chin toward Big Jim.

Marcus looked down, finally registering that Big Jim had stopped fighting, his face bloody and bruised. "He hurt you." 

"Is there rope? Duct tape?" 

"Um, garage. I'll get it." Marcus pushed on Big Jim's chest, levering himself up. His leg didn't like the bending, but cooperated enough for him to stand. "He has guys, two guys." 

"Don't worry, they won't be getting up fast," Esca promised, and it was a little chilling, how calm he sounded. "Marcus." Esca stepped close to him, one hand behind Marcus' head, pulling him down enough so that Esca could press a fast kiss on his lips. "Get the rope." 

~~~

Esca woke when Marcus slipped out of bed, instantly missing his big, solid warmth. Bladder or belly, wondered Esca, his eyes shut, listening as Marcus pulled on sweats and left the room. Part of him wanted to instantly follow, but he was trying to not be too clingy. No, best to let Marcus take care of business, enjoy how good it felt to lay in sheets that smelled of the both of them, and remember how fantastic it had felt, Marcus' big hand wrapped around his cock, driving him to distraction before making him come. 

One syllable of his name jerked Esca to a sitting position. His Guide was in danger. His Guide needed him. Training kicked in, and even as he leaped out of bed, he reached out with his hearing. Multiple people were in the house, men with low voices. Two were moving, starting to search the house, while one stayed in the front room with Marcus. 

Esca pulled on his jeans, wishing desperately for a weapon. He should have asked Craddock for a gun before he left the hospital. Marcus' room was woefully lacking in weapons, only clothes, books, a few action figures, including Wolverine, Esca noted with quick amusement. But Marcus' phone was on the nightstand, and Esca took a moment to push the combination of buttons that would send an SOS to Craddock. Ready to leave the room and hope to find a heavy statue of some variety, Esca spotted a bow and arrow on the wall. Thankfully, it wasn't hung so that it was tied down, but was easily lifted up. One arrow, one chance, three bad guys. Esca had faced worst odds, but never with his Guide's life on the line. 

Leaving the room, he headed toward the back of the house. He'd be too exposed, going down the front stairs, but surely a house this big would have back stairs. He found them at the end of the hall, creeping down each step, still listening for the two men searching for him. Thankfully, they'd separated to different sides of the house. 

Esca had little compunction about standing in the shadows as the first one pushed open a door and swung his gun around inside. The bow was a museum piece or a quality reproduction, Esca could probably tell if he had more time to feel the grain of the wood, but whether real or fake, it was in good condition, the arrow sailing true, piercing the guy's torso. The guy fell backwards to the ground with a startled yell of pain, his gun skittering from his hand. Dropping the bow, Esca rushed forward to grab up the gun, ready to shoot if necessary, but the guy was clutching at the arrow through his body, whimpering in distress, and clearly too incapacitated to be an immediate threat. 

Even though he had a gun now, he managed to take the other guy down in the library without using it, instead hitting the back of his head with the type of heavy statue that he'd originally hoped to find. He would have shot him if he'd needed to, but knew that Craddock would prefer live people to prosecute. Craddock could certainly get down and dirty if he thought it necessary, but overall he preferred convicting people for their crimes. 

Finding Marcus sprawled on top of Big Jim, beating him unconscious, made all the tense muscles in Esca's body relax. He'd never dreamed of finding a Guide capable of rescuing and protecting him, that was supposed to be the Sentinel's job. Though the years of being unbonded had seemed long and bleak, Marcus had been worth the wait. 

~~~

After a while, Marcus left Esca and the clean-up crew to take away Big Jim and his boys and clean the blood off the floor. Thankfully, the attack didn't seem to have been reported to the police, or at least, not in such a fashion that any reporters were showing up to cover a home invasion in a ritzy neighborhood. He went to the kitchen, conscious that he was starving. He was frying bacon when he felt Esca's arms wrap him around from behind, the side of his head resting against the top of Marcus' back. 

"They've all gone." 

"Good. I'm ready to be alone again." 

"It's easier to microwave bacon than fry it." 

"But then I wouldn't have bacon grease to scramble the eggs in," Marcus replied sensibly. 

"You like to cook?"

"I do. Dad traveled a lot. Mom would have me help with meals. I got used to it. I find it relaxing. Uncle has a housekeeper who leaves us a few prepared meals every week but I do the rest of the cooking." 

"Good. I'll let you spoil me. I'm rubbish at cooking." 

"You can make the toast," Marcus said, beginning to remove bacon from the grease and place it on a plate covered with paper towels. "Bread box, toaster," he added, jerking his head in the appropriate direction. "I'll take two pieces of the sourdough. Two eggs?" 

"Three, if you have them. I've been working up an appetite." 

They moved companionably around the kitchen, Esca starting toast, looking in cabinets to find plates and silverware, setting places on the island, getting out butter and jam. Marcus scrambled the eggs and poured them juice. Esca had replaced the jeans with his uncle's red plaid dressing gown, only what was knee-length on his uncle reached Esca's calves. 

"Your uncle has a lovely home. Will he mind if we stay here until you finish your degree?" 

"You want to do that?" Marcus loved sitting here, sharing thoughts about their future while they ate breakfast. 

"I want you to do what you want to do with your life. I'm not a Sentinel to make you follow me around." 

"I've only started on my doctorate." Did he even want to finish? His plan had been to be a history professor, but that had always been the fallback to his dream of playing football. He wasn't sure if a career in academia would work with Esca's job. "Don't you need to be by your headquarters? I assume that's not California." 

"Not really. It's not like I'm sitting in a cubicle all day. Craddock suggested he might get you a job too."

"How would that work? I don't think I'm up to what you do." Marcus swallowed the last of his juice and placed his palm over Esca's mouth. "You know what? Can we not care about our future now?" 

Esca licked Marcus' palm. "I can spend some time focusing on the now. On you."

Pulling Esca into his arms, Marcus agreed. "On us."

~ the end ~

I've had random thoughts about what I might do if I started writing this as a universe (which, who knows? I never do!). So some scenes of how life might develop for Esca and Marcus. More than I intended really, I kept adding more. I find I really love these boys. 

Scene 1.

"Did you give Cottia my email address?"

"Yeah, she asked for it," Marcus said absentmindedly from his book. "Why?" 

They were on a break from bonding, having taken time to actually get dressed, Esca seated on the bed, legs stretched out, catching up on email on his phone, while Marcus was tilted back in his desk chair, reading a heavy tome on Roman history. 

"She sent me a file, I just wanted to make sure it was legit." 

"Wait, what?" Marcus looked up from his book, sounding alarmed. "What kind of file?"

"A video of some sort." 

"No!" Marcus dropped his book and lunged, trying to grab Esca's phone away from him. 

Laughing, Esca twisted away, tucking the phone closer to his body. "I sense this is something good," he gloated. 

"Oh, god." Sitting on the edge of the bed, Marcus buried his face in his hands. 

"Let's see, shall we?" He tapped on the file, opening it. The camera panned around a big room, lots of middle-aged women in nice dresses seated at round tables eating a meal, pausing on the doorway as a man stepped into the frame, wearing a black police uniform. It took Esca a moment to realize it was Marcus, a young Marcus, the shiny sunglasses covering his beautiful eyes. 

"Mrs. Johnson, I am the law, and you are in trouble!" 

The camera zoomed in on Marcus, but at the sides of the screen, the ladies twisted in the chair to look at the intruder. 

"It was a joke, just a joke," Marcus moaned. "I'm gonna kill her." 

Marcus strutted across the room, the ladies watching with curiosity at the fake arrest, Cottia's aunt giggling as her hands were cuffed behind her body. 

"She was getting an award from the Ladies' Auxiliary of the Rotary Club," Marcus continued, still hiding his face. "I shouldn't have let Cottia talk me into it."

And then somehow Marcus ripped off his shirt, because it wasn't like a strip routine needed logical justification. Someone gave a loud cry of delight, Cottia behind from the camera as best as Esca could tell. Loud music started, some sort of driving country beat, and Marcus started dancing as the ladies began going crazy with excited exclamations. "Fuck, how old were you?" 

"Sixteen." 

Marcus already had his height, though was a little slimmer, his shoulders not quite so broad. Esca felt his cock harden at his beauty. "I could have known you then." 

Marcus looked up from his hands, sounding curious rather than mortified. "Would you have wanted to?" 

Holding the phone in one hand, Esca cupped himself, giving a slight stroke. "Absolutely, fuck, yes. I was so scrawny, I don't know if you would have wanted to know me." Marcus was dancing around the tables, his movement not really practiced, but incredibly sexy in his youth and vigor. He squatted slightly, and shimmied his hips, his face lighting with delight as the ladies reacted ecstatically. 

"I would have wanted to," Marcus said, knocking Esca's hand away from his cock, pulling down his sweats, and exposing him. He wrapped one big hand around Esca's cock, beginning a gentle stroking. Bending his head, he kissed the tip of Esca's cock, before mouthing it. 

Esca buried his hand in Marcus' hair. Teenage Marcus had incredibly short hair, like it was growing out from a buzz cut. Which would be better, hair that he could grip, or such a pettable head? Maybe Esca could persuade Marcus to cut his hair that short again and find out. 

On the screen, Marcus ripped off his pants to reveal his legs, youthful skin unmarked. He was wearing sedate blue boxers, not a thong, and Esca wondered if Cottia had sewn the fly shut. Marcus shimmied his hips several more times, obviously having realized that was a true crowd pleaser. The routine ended with Marcus releasing Cottia's aunt from the cuffs, and her giving him an exaggerated peck on the cheek, both of them laughing, like it was all in good, clean fun. 

Marcus sucked intently on Esca's cock, and Esca came, arching his hips and groaning with the pleasure of his release. Without hesitation, Marcus drank him down. 

"Two things," Esca said, when he felt his brain could function again. "Cottia is officially my favorite sister-in-law." 

"We're not actually related," Marcus pointed out. 

"Don't care, she is forever my favorite sister-in-law. And secondly, I hope you are ready for more bonding, because I need you to fuck me, right now." 

With a shy smile, Marcus stood and began stripping. 

Scene 2:

"You're being childish and I don't know why." Marcus placed his hands on his hips in irritation, staring at Esca who had thrown himself on his back on the weight bench in the exercise room. Though Marcus had taken the time to pull on a white t-shirt and his blue boxers, Esca was distractingly naked. 

"Yes, I'm childish," Esca muttered, staring at the ceiling. "I'm like a child." 

Marcus frowned. "Is this the size thing? I can't do anything about genetics. I like our height difference." 

"Yes, Marcus, with his towering height and his football quarterback shoulders and his big cock and his deep throating mouth." 

Anger and frustration flipped to hurt that he'd done something wrong. His voice soft, he asked, "Did you not like that? I tried to do right." 

"You tried to do it right? Marcus – " Esca paused, raising up on his elbows to stare at Marcos now. "Have you never done that?"

"I told you I haven't had a lot of lovers." It was Marcus' turn to mutter resentfully. "I haven't wanted to try before. No one mattered enough to risk gagging and looking stupid." Esca kept staring, until Marcus crossed his arms defensively. "What?" 

"How are you always so good at everything you try?"

"I'm not."

Esca gave a gentle sigh, and Marcus could see the tenseness relaxing out of his shoulders. "I know you believe that, but I'll keep working on it. You know I'm never going to be able to do that, right?"

"Considering that you make me come like the top of my head is going to blow off, I don't see it matters if I can't fuck your throat. You're a veritable blowjob master." 

"Marcus." Esca gave a strange, rueful shake of his head. "You just deep throated me. I'm not the master here." 

"Is that really what we're arguing about here? That I'm too big and suck cock too well?"

"No." Esca stood, and with his customary grace, slinked over to Marcus, slipping a hand on each side of his waist. "We're arguing over how much of a fucking idiot your Sentinel is and how sometimes he still can't accept that the best thing that has ever happened to him is really true. Seriously, he's an utter moron." 

Marcus slid his hands to Esca's back and down to cup his ass cheeks with his palms. Everything about Esca's body was lean and spare, except the beautiful tight roundness of his butt. "Don't talk about my Sentinel like that. I love him." 

"Marcus." Nuzzling Marcus' throat, Esca breathed, "How can he make it up to you?"

"I think we should go back to bed and he should ride me until I can't see straight and then a little bit longer until I beg him to let me come." 

With a last nip to Marcus' throat, Esca promised, "He can do that. He's going to make it so good for you." He took Marcus' hand, tugging him toward the door.

Marcus let himself be led back to the bedroom. For a first fight, that had gone okay, and the make-up sex was going to be fantastic. Esca would make it so.

Scene 3:

Sitting in a t-shirt and boxer shorts in the living room of his uncle's house, being examined by a doctor was strange, but not exceptionally so. Marcus had suffered through a lot of medical examinations in his life, only the being at home part was weird. The instruments that the doctor used were highly advanced, super high-tech from the way they glowed. Having Esca lounge with his hands on the back of a chair, quietly watching, was strange, but in a good way. Marcus enjoyed his Sentinel's supportive presence. 

But the doctor… the doctor was strange in a way that only someone with Marcus' Guide senses could perceive, leaving Marcus confused on whether to trust him. 

"Well, thank you very much for having your doctor send along your file. I've reviewed it thoroughly and your current physical condition confirms my belief that we can help you." The doctor's accent was a softly appealing Scottish burr, and his blue eyes seemed kind and caring. 

"You can?" Marcus asked cautiously. 

"Aye. I came prepared." He took a syringe from his bag, again one that looked strange, though the doctor's hold obscured it. "There is nanite technology that can heal the muscle and scar tissue fully. I've programmed them for the process to be slow, so you can adjust. It should take two weeks. The nanites will shut down afterwards."

"Nanite technology of that level…" Marcus shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not a doctor, but I would have heard if that was possible." 

"It's still considered experimental, though I assure you that this will work."

"Marcus? Is something wrong?" Esca was a Sentinel, not a Guide. He didn't have a Guide's sense, but he knew Marcus, and would recognize his hesitation. 

"Look." Marcus shifted restlessly on the couch. "I want to be cured. I want my leg to be well again. But you're – " 

The doctor looked surprised. "Me? Something's wrong with me?" 

"You're wrong," Marcus blurted out. "You look like an adult, but you read like you're a child." 

"I do? To your Guide senses? How fascinating." 

"I don't know how to describe it. I've been trying to use my senses more since I met my Sentinel, but this is new to me. I find that when I sense people, there's a depth to older people. If I sensed you from another room, I'd think you were a kid. But then you also have adult emotions. It doesn't make sense. I don't know if I can let you put experimental nanites in me when I don't know if I can trust you." 

"That really is quite fascinating."

"You're not offended?"

"No. I do understand why you sense what you do. My life…" The doctor's eyes unfocused, as if he was trying to figure out what to say. "I guess you could say it was reset. I wish I could explain to you, but I can't. It's even more classified than the nanite technology. But if it helps, I can guarantee you that there is a reason."

"Your life was reset?" Marcus prodded, hoping that the doctor would reveal more. "Like… you had amnesia or something? Came out of a coma?"

"Yes, I guess it could be considered something like that. I was in medical stasis for several months." The doctor looked at him, waiting, and Marcus looked back, feeling only slightly comforted that the doctor wasn't surprised by what Marcus felt. 

"But you won't explain to me?"

"No, I'm sorry, I can't." 

"Marcus." Esca walked around the back of the couch, taking his hand. "Doctor, if you don't mind?" The doctor shook his head as Esca pulled Marcus out of the living room and into the foyer. "Look, I can understand your hesitation, but I trust Craddock, and Craddock pulled strings to get this guy to help you. If Craddock says this is your best chance to be healed, it's your best chance." 

"Craddock's a douche." 

Esca sighed. "Agreed, but he knows people, people who deal with secrets, and he's very reliable. He would not steer you wrong on this."

But he might on something else, Marcus thought cynically. "What if I don't do it?"

"It's your body, Marcus. I'm not going to badger you to try experimental technology if you're not comfortable. But curing your leg is the only way we can work together."

"You really love your job, don't you?" 

"I'm good at it, and it's important work. And I think you'd be great at it, and we'd be amazing together. But we can do something else." Esca placed his hands flat on Marcus' stomach, fingers spread wide, slowly gliding up Marcus' chest, before his arms wrapped around Marcus' neck. "You can get that doctorate in history and be a college professor and I'll be one of those supportive spouses, holding parties for all the faculty members. I want you to be happy. You're my Guide and that matters more than anything else. I just know that I can't go out into the field any more without you."

A sudden thought made Marcus feel guilty. "Have I made you weaker?" Esca frowned at him. "You used to go into the field by yourself as an unbonded Sentinel. Did bonding make you weaker?" 

"It's not that. I feel stronger, not weaker. I just can't conceive doing what I do without you by my side." 

"Okay." Marcus dropped his head, resting his forehead against Esca's. He wasn't as convinced as Esca that he would make a good spy or whatever it was that Esca did, but he couldn't imagine knowing that his Sentinel was going into danger without him. Or refusing to let his leg be healed, forcing Esca to end his career. He couldn't be that selfish because of an uncomfortable feeling. "Okay," he repeated. Walking back into the living room, he sat on the couch. "Let's do this." 

"Good," the doctor said, placing the syringe against Marcus' thigh, and depressing gently. "There shouldn't be any reactions, but I want you to contact me immediately if you experience any unusual symptoms over the next two weeks." 

The sting was barely noticeable. Marcus stared at his thigh for a moment, as if expecting to see the little nanites crawling under his skin, but nothing was visible. "Thank you, Doctor – I'm sorry, Carson right?" 

"Yes, Carson Beckett. Well, I'll be on my way." Putting the syringe in his bag, Carson shook Marcus' hand, and then Esca's, before Esca walked him to the front door. 

"Two weeks," Esca said, dropping to his knees in front of Marcus. 

"It's strange. After all these years, to be healed in two weeks." To be able to run easily, even up and down stairs, to do everything that he'd used to do… it would be a miracle. 

"But good strange, right?"

"Yes." Marcus cupped Esca's cheek in one hand. "Good strange." 

Scene 4: 

Marcus barreled after Esca, conscious that his leg was holding up well, though his breathing was beginning to labor. He needed to work on his stamina.

If they survived, that is.

Esca turned suddenly, veering into a restaurant. What the hell was he doing? They didn't need to endanger anyone else.

The restaurant was mostly full, the crowd in various stages of dining. Along one wall was a long bar, with round tables filling the rest of the space. Using an empty bar stool, Esca pulled himself up, standing on the bar. Not understanding but trusting Esca, Marcus followed him.

"May I have your attention?" Several people had already started watching them as they scrambled onto the bar, but the rest began turning their heads. "My name is Sentinel Esca MacCunoval, please may I have your attention?"

People were indoctrinated to respond to Sentinels, who often handled emergencies. Many people looked alarmed, some beginning to eye the door.

"Please, this is not an emergency. There is no cause for alarm. In fact, this is a happy event, it should be shared. You," he pointed at a person with a cell phone, "can you stream? You should stream. Tag it with Sentinel. Yes, more is good," he added, as others held up cell phones.

Marcus could feel the tension in the room ease and turn to curiosity. This side of Esca was fascinating, but somehow not surprising. Marcus had realized that Esca's work for Craddock probably required a variety of skills.

"This is my Guide Marcus Aquila."

Trying to smile, Marcus gave a weak wave. Being stared at without a helmet and shoulder pads made him uncomfortable. He supposed he would have to get used to it if he became a history professor. Or more of a regular partner in Esca's work rather than an inadvertent sidekick.

"Marcus." Esca placed his hand on Marcus' arm, slid it down to wrap their fingers together. "He saved my life. He bonded with me, barely knowing me. We found each other late, but he's the best thing that ever happened to me.

"Which is why," he said, turning to face Marcus and dropping to one knee, "I want everyone to know how much I love him, and that I want to be his for the rest of our lives. Marcus." Esca brought a small box out of his pocket, holding it up and opening it to reveal a beautiful green ring. "Will you marry me?"

Marcus shook his head, not as a refusal. "Esca, I love you. You will always be my Sentinel. I will always be by your side and never leave you. You don't need to ask me to marry you."

"Marcus, this isn't obligation. I don't feel I have to marry you because we're chemically bonded. I'm asking because I love you. I want you to be my husband, not just my Guide."

Marcus thought he was probably grinning like a fool. "Esca, yes, I'll marry you."

"Marcus," Esca breathed, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it on Marcus' finger. He took a moment to admire how it looked before standing. Marcus lowered his head and they kissed to cheers and catcalls. Breaking away, Esca's eyes were shining, the happiest that Marcus had ever seen them. 

Someone in the audience was making a loud "whoop whoop." Feeling bold, Marcus pulled Esca back into his arms. He didn't often use his strength against his Sentinel, but now he did, bending forward, his arm firmly around Esca's back, forcing the smaller man to lean like he was swooning. He heard an amused, "Ass," before he claimed Esca's lips with his own. Esca wrapped his arms around Marcus' neck, holding on and kissing him back like he was drowning.

A sudden wolf whistle pierced the air, and Marcus released Esca, both of them standing straight again. Glancing at the doorway, Marcus' stomach clenched for a moment at the sight of four black clad figures. Then he realized these weren't the guys who had been chasing him, but guys that Esca knew. The smirky one was farthest into the restaurant, lowering his hand from his lips. He'd been the whistler. The earnest-ditzy and the earnest-serious ones flanked him, and the big one Marcus thought as Mr. Impassive stood behind him.

"Thank you! Thank you very much all of you!" Esca waved at the crowd, then leaped nimbly to the ground. Taking it easier, Marcus squatted and used one hand to help himself drop down. 

He didn't even want to think what kind of monitoring was happening, that rescuers could appear so quickly based on a social media stream.

"That was for real," Esca said softly, so that only Marcus could hear.

"Esca, you had a ring." Marcus gave him a quick kiss. "So was my answer."

The smirky one clapped his hands together. "I love weddings. What flavor for the wedding cake?"

"Chocolate," Marcus and Esca said in unison.

Scene 5:

Marcus wiped his palms on his jeans before opening the door. Craddock was prompt. Marcus was torn between appreciation that he'd finally get the answers to the questions he'd tried not to ask, and worry. What if he didn't like the answers? What if he sucked as Esca's partner? He would hate to endanger his Sentinel.

"Thank you for coming," he said politely, like this was a normal situation, shaking Craddock's hand and welcoming him into the foyer. Craddock's gaze darted around, assessing the marbled floor and elegant staircase. 

"Is there a good place for us to talk?" 

Abrupt and to the point, Craddock had been like that when they'd met, at the hospital. "The living room is fine. My uncle is out." 

"Craddock," Esca said, bounding down the staircase, followed immediately by, "Marcus," from Marcus' uncle as he emerged from the back of the house. The four ended up standing in the foyer, Marcus' uncle staring fixedly at Craddock, whose expression showed momentary surprise before going blank.

"Uncle, I thought you'd already left." 

"No, I had to go back for something." He patted the breast of his jacket, indicating something in his inner pocket without offering an explanation. "Mr. Craddock, isn't it?"

"And you must be Marcus' uncle, Silvius Aquila." 

"Yes, that's my name." 

Marcus watched his uncle and Craddock make overly polite introductions, his Guide sense picking up the weird feeling running between the two. He looked at Esca, who gave him a shrug, indicating he could sense the tension too, from their expressions and tone of voice. 

"Do you two know each other?"

"Not officially," Silvius said.

"Not officially? What does that mean?" 

"Marcus, could we talk privately for a minute?" Silvius didn't wait for Marcus' assent, heading to the kitchen. 

With a look at Esca, Marcus followed. "You two do know each other, right?"

Marcus and his uncle faced each other in the kitchen. "I have seen him, yes. Mr. Craddock works for an organization where people aren't always introduced to each other. It's very need to know." 

"And he didn't need to know your name? Because otherwise he should have realized we were related. Aquila's not a common name."

"Yes, he wouldn't have known my name." Silvius gave a tight smile. "He would have known my … title, shall we say." 

"Your title? What does that mean?"

"They fixed your leg, didn't they?"

"How – " Marcus rubbed his hand over his thigh, with its smooth, new skin, and fully functional muscle. The nanites had done a perfect job and then apparently turned themselves off. Or were perhaps waiting in his body for new instructions. Marcus tried to not think about them. "How did you know?" The weather had been cool enough that he'd been wearing jeans or sweats, putting off explaining the change to his uncle.

"I've watched you walk. And I came home early one night. You were in the hot tub." Silvius had the grace to look embarrassed, which made Marcus blush. He remembered that night, not bothering with swimsuits, hoisting Esca out of the hot tub, his ass on the concrete edge, his legs around Marcus' waist… 

"I didn't stay," Silvius added hastily, "But I couldn't help but notice that your skin is unmarked."

Marcus cleared his throat, tamping down the memory of that night. "Yes, they provided the means to fix my leg. I wanted to tell you, but I wasn't sure what to say." 

"You don't owe them, you realize that? You can say no to whatever this meeting is about." 

Marcus wasn't sure that Craddock would accept no, his uncertainty showing in his face. 

"They can't take it back, can they? You won't have signed anything, they're not keen on paper trails. Or I suppose these days electronic ones. Even if you did, they couldn't risk a lawsuit." 

Marcus was still finding it a bit hard to keep up, that his uncle hadn't just had some sort of boring office job but had apparently led a life that gave him a title but no name. Thoughts danced around his brain as he altered his world view, and wondered if his uncle had deliberately given the impression he'd left the house. "You don't think I'd be good at this, do you? You stayed late to make sure you understood what was happening?"

"Hmphf." Silvius' look was speculative. "Perhaps you are more suited than I would have thought. Marcus, no." He reached out, squeezing his nephew's shoulder reassuringly. "It's not a bad thing that I was concerned. You are such an honest, open person with a good heart. You've always believed in being loyal and doing your best. I fear this kind of life might test those qualities." 

"Esca does it."

"I like Esca. I hope you realize that I like him a lot and I am very pleased that you found your Sentinel. But he can be very … closed. He keeps things to himself well."

"You did it." 

"I'm an old man. I've gone through a lot of changes in my life. I haven't always been the man you know now. Things have not always easy. I know," he squeezed Marcus' shoulder again, "things have not always been easy for you either. I just want you to not feel coerced into any decision." 

"Being with Esca is what I want, however we work it out." 

"Loyal as always." Silvius smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes. "Listen to Craddock and think about it before making a snap decision. Humor your old uncle." 

"I always listen to you. And I would always want to make you proud of me." 

"You have always made me proud, Marcus. I can't imagine anything you could do that would disappoint me." 

They both cleared their throat, equally uncomfortable with the depth of emotion displayed. "Thank you, uncle, for staying and talking to me and sharing what you could."

"Well, I must go and let you get to it." Silvius gave Marcus a brief hug, and Marcus squeezed him tightly back, before following him to the foyer. This time he stood in the doorway and watched his uncle drive off, before going to join Esca and Craddock. He had a new life to start.

**Author's Note:**

> Hugs to Calysta Rose for the support and betaing. I fussed one last time before posting, so all mistakes are mine. Comments and kudos greatly appreciated!


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